Asobou 遊ぼう
by Phantom Shyraz
Summary: (Poirot Cafe 6-8k contest) Ever wondered why Conan and Shinichi seems so different? -ONESHOT-
**-Asobou [遊ぼう]-**

Disclaimer: The works of Detective Conan belongs to Gosho Aoyama-sensei.

Warning: DARK! Really messed up. Try not to read it late at night else Conan might visit you in your sleep...

A/N: Written for Poirot Cafe 6-8k challenge.

* * *

Theme: Personality

Optional Prompts: Warped, A Special Item Befitting of Owner's..., Multifaceted

* * *

The place was dark, with only a spotlight trained on the heavy wooden table as a focal point. On one end, sat a pristine white cup with a saucer, filled to the brim with dark black coffee threatening to spill over. On the other side sat the same liquid, only this is held in a tall glass with ice, it had condensation running down the side, complete with a straw sticking out and a little umbrella decorating its rim. Between these two similar, but oh-so-different, beverages sat a pair of glasses, its front facing the current occupant at the table - the renowned Kudo Shinichi. He was sitting at the end with the cup and saucer with his hands bracing the cup steady on the otherwise stable surface.

"Let's play a game Shinichi-niisan." A child's voice echoed. Shinichi's eyes were focussed on the drink opposite him in an instant. The impish voice laughed, like the faeries of old, like the mermaids leading the sailors to the ends of the Earth.

"Who'll win this time. You or me?" Shinichi could just see a shimmer of a transparent silhouette of a child opposite him. There was a sense of giddiness in the air, a vibration emanating from the child.

"The winner sees, the loser... well we'll go into that after." There was a trace of white beneath the smile, just barely visible. The child was becoming more solid, casting shadows on the table top.

"Little by little, a grain at a time. The lost of time will never return." Like reciting a nursery rhyme, the child's sing-song voice reverberated in the pitch black space. Large blue eyes and small round face, mirroring Shinichi's own features and hairstyle, sat staring into Shinichi's bewildered eyes.

"Say, are you sure you'll really really win?" A small hand reached forward, crossing the table to touch Shinichi's face. He could see from the corner of his eyes, the pale hand transforming from its milky white to vibrant red, the viscous liquid dripping from the limb onto the wooden surface was instantly soaked up.

He tore his eyes away from the red and tried to focus on the drink before him. The dark liquid reflecting a similar face of bright blue eyes with a cheshire grin. It unnerved Shinichi to see the child with such an expression.

"Shinichi-niisan, let's play." The grin inside the cup widened, the black liquid was overspilling. What he once thought was coffee had left a rusty iron tang in his nose. The floor that his foot had rested on no longer felt solid, it warped under him. The chair was threatening to topple over, sending him on a collision course with the unstable ground. He thought he would hit the surface but he just continued to fall.

"Shinichi-niisan, let's play a game." The child's voice, overlapped with his own voice, repeated the same phrase over and over, softening as he fell further down to the darkness.

* * *

Shinichi woke with a jolt, eyes staring blankly at the bland ceiling as he tried to gulp in precious air. The room he was sharing with Kogoro was still dark. He grabbed the front of his pajama shirt with one hand, trying to settle the erratic heartbeat, his other was searching the floor for his mobile phone with a slight tremble. He brushed aside the pair of glasses, glinting in the limited light, and took hold of the phone.

"5:30am." He muttered to himself softly so not to wake the dead-as-a-log-and-actually-sleeping detective. Realising he would not be able to fall back asleep, not in peace anyways, he pushed aside his bedding, grabbing the nearly forgotten glasses in an afterthought, and padded his way out of the shared room.

The Sun was still under the horizon when he briefly looked out of the living room windows. On his way to the bathroom, Shinichi paused in front of Ran's room, listening in for the steady breathing pattern. He spent a minute just standing there, wondering if he should open the door to peek inside to make sure Ran was alright. But the heavy weight of glasses reminded him of who he should be, the little boy living with his adoptive sister and not a possible partner. It was heartwrenching to be so close to the one you truly care about and not being able to do anything but to look through transparent windows held by a flimsy frame. He turned away, physically and mentally, from the door, not wanting to _think_ about who he is or what should be.

He entered the bathroom, standing before the sink, to go through his morning ritual in mechanical motion.

Left, right, lower jaw, upper jaw, rinse.

He set aside the black frames on the counter to wash his face, but when he looked up, he could not recognise the reflection in the mirror. In front of him was the reflection of the teenage Kudo Shinichi, yet he was still standing on the plastic step stool, still physically eight years old. Through the mirror, he saw the figure of Conan sitting where the glasses should be.

"Shinichi-niisan, let's play a game." It was the exact same tone as what he heard in the dream. He tried to cover his ears, to block out the repeated phrase, but the sounds were coming from within his head.

"Damn it." He squeezed his eyes tight, fingers with a vice like grip on the sink counter, making tiny crescent indents on his palm. He could hear the water tap running in the background. He tried to focus on its soft sloshing rather than on the heavy breaths.

There was then a knock on the door, startling and effectively snapping Conan back in place. He dared glance at his reflection one one. No longer was Kudo Shinichi standing before him, the specter of the mischievous Conan had disappeared from his position.

"Conan-kun?" Ran's concerned voice came through the door. "Are you ok in there? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine Ran-neechan. I'll be out in a moment." He chirped brightly, finishing off his morning ritual. He practiced his smile in the mirror before facing Ran. "Good Morning Ran-neechan." He beamed. She ruffled his hair with affection.

"You're up early today." She was trying hard to contain the yawn, but it inevitably escaped her mouth. Conan couldn't hold back the grin.

"I set my alarm wrong..." He lied, naturally. There was a moment in his life that lies never came out so easily. Now, the moment he put on the black frames, stories run rampant in his mind, supplying him with endless tales for the various purposes.

"Then how about you help me set up for breakfast?" There was an encouraging smile on her lips. He nodded earnestly, plastering on a childlike smile of satisfaction complete with large and overly bright eyes.

It was supposed to be a calming, tranquil, morning. The only mishap came from the stumbling detective groaning about having to wake up early for a stakeout. Shinichi poked and prodded the lump of egg in set out in front of him.

"I thought you liked tamagoyaki." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice. "Do you feel sick?" She laid a hand on his forehead.

"I do like the eggs. Maybe I'm just sleepy." He tried smiling at her again. At first he wasn't sure if she was buying his act.

"Alright. But if you don't feel well, go to the nurse's office ok?" Concern, worry, and a spectrum of unease flashed through her eyes. Shinichi had not meant to cause Ran to feel as such. He felt guilty when she took hold of his hands as they walked towards the school.

He tried to avoid any reflective surface, keeping his eyes on the ground. If Ran detected anything, she did not voice it. They kept silent the whole journey, where they would normally make small talk about yesternight's drama they watched together. He wasn't sure whether the words he wishes to say (or can say) are what Ran wanted to her, so instead when the arrived in front of the elementary school, he said goodbye with waves rather than words.

"Good morning Conan-kun!" Ayumi's voice was bright and cheerful as always. She was trying to engage him in the boy's conversation. Conan sat down, not really paying attention just customarily nodding at statements and added nonsensical words into their discussion. The kids did not detect anything wrong. But one single girl was training her eyes on him.

She didn't say a single word.

Lunch and morning class past by in a blur. When he came back to his senses, or more specifically when his brain finally registers his action, he was actually in the nurse's office.

"Edogawa-kun, you should really be more careful." The older woman reprimanded. She was wrapping a bandage around his hand. "Does it hurt anymore?"

He shook his head. Not really sure what had happened. By the looks of the shadows, it was after school hours. He realised he must have been the one on duty this afternoon, responsible for cleaning up the classroom. He thanked the nurse, bowing before exiting the room.

Outside, Haibara stood waiting with his backpack by her side.

"Nothing severe I take it?" She must have been the one who came with him.

"A little scratch. That's all." He shrugged. He wasn't feeling any pain so he assumed in was a small wound.

"A scratch." She tutted, walking away towards the school entrance. "Just don't lose yourself again Kudo-kun."

It was rare for her to address him as such within the school. He look back at his left palm, fully bandaged, and wondered what led up to this moment. Closing it into a fist, he felt nothing but numbness. Obediently followed the girl as they walk down the sidewalk.

"You're staying over tonight right?" She was trying to make small talk.

"Yeah. Kogoro will be out on an all-nighter and Ran is off on training camp. It'll be irresponsible of them to leave Conan home alone."

"They know you can take care of yourself."

"It's the image. So either I stay at the professors or with Eri-san."

It wasn't until he took off his glasses inside the safety of the professor's house that he actually saw colour. It was as though everything was filtered through the degree-less lens, that everything was misted over. After the customary curry dinner, which the professor nearly jumped in joy at the fried chicken treat, Haibara retreated to her underground lab. The professor left him to tinker with another one of his volatile toys. His curiosity got the better of him, so he unwrapped the bandage.

Peeling off the first two layers of white, he finally came across a splotch of red in the center. Going further, the red only spread outwards. The final layer was stained through both sides. He peeled back the gauze and the sight was disturbing. Dead center of his palm was an angry wound, it looks as though there were two stitches across the flesh holding the opening together. He turned to look at the back, there was also a small opening, but thankfully no stitches. All of a sudden, he became fascinated at the red puffiness of his skin. Experimentally, he poked at the wound. Still not feeling anything.

"Scissors wound." Haibara commented from her spot by the basement door.

He kept silent, eyes still on the wound, trying to figure out how it came to this. Haibara sighed as she pulled out a first aid box to start re-bandaging the wound.

"You were packing up the crafts basket, I wasn't paying much attention to what you were doing. It wasn't until you weren't responding to my calls that's when I thought something was wrong. Your hand was bleeding by then, the scissors strewn on the floor besides you."

"I had no idea..."

"I should be more concerned that you're not feeling any pain. It's way past time the anesthetic worn off. But you have a naturally high tolerance for pain." She handed him a bottle of pills. "Pain killers."

He nodded in thanks before retreating to his designated bed for his stay. He'll be staying at the professor's for the whole week.

* * *

"Seems like you lost Shinichi-niisan." The Cheshire grin returned on Conan's face sitting opposite him. It was the same set up as before. But instead of cups, this time it was a plate and fork setting. On Shinichi's plain white plate sat an equally pale cake with a pie crust rim. Blobs of cream and a dusting of icing sugar decorated the dessert. In front of Conan, a floral plate filled with an assortment of candy.

Conan took a piece from his plate, leaning over and placed it on Shinichi's closed lips gently at first before trying harder. He pushed it through the flesh and had to use his other, still red hand, to open the jaw. Shinichi tried to push at the boy, who had a surprisingly strong grip. The candy tasted bitter, vile, and he wanted to cough it up. But two small hands prevented him from opening his mouth, covering both the mouth and nose area, forcing him to swallow.

"Say Shinichi-niisan, what should we play next?" The boy was forceful, pushing into him, almost suffocating him. Shinichi tried to push back, tried to move out of the chair, but he was stuck and no amount of force could dislodge the small appendages.

Shinichi floundered, scrambling to get air back into his lungs. Not only his lungs were burning by this point, but his whole body. It was like transforming, only there was on steam or the painful throb at the joints. The pressure around his nose and mouth only increased the more he struggled.

"Are you still trying to win? There's really no point though is there?" By now, Conan lost all his child-like demeanor, there was a sinister glint in his eyes. The bright blue now held a tinge of pitch darkness, sucking out all the light.

"The waning moon, the changing tide, all shall be forgotten." It was as though the child's voice was continuing the rhyme from last night.

"Shinichi-niisan, do you want to play?" His limbs felt heavy. He let his arms fall limp by his side. Before closing his eyes, he saw a satisfying glint in the deep midnight eyes.

* * *

Shinichi's eyes opened abruptly, eyes instantly scanning for danger as he did not recognise the ceiling. He calmed down once his mind supplied him he was at the professor's place. His limbs felt like lead, he really did not want to move. But the Sun was starting to shine through the slits in the curtains. They would have to start making their journey to school soon.

The one good thing about staying with the professor was that there was coffee in the morning. Granted, he had to suffer through Haibara's disapproving gaze before he could savour the liquid ambrosia. Mornings in this household was never the same, some days would be filled with black smoke, others could be starting with a loud bang. Shinichi should count himself lucky when this morning was relatively normal, with Haibara dishing out breakfast portions (plates laden with a mountain of salad) and the professor looking longingly at Shinichi's plate of jam and toast standing just off to the side.

"No professor." Haibara was trying not only to have the professor stick to his diet, but also trying to have Shinichi eat something for breakfast. "Kudo-kun. I know you enjoy coffee in the mornings but that is not food."

"Later Haibara. It's rare I can have this in the morning. Let me at least enjoy it while I can."

The girl sighed, ignoring the pseudo child in favour of grabbing the morning papers from the mail.

"Here Hagase." He pushed the plate towards the professor, who gave him a strange look. "I don't have the appetite. Wouldn't want to waste the food."

"Are you sure Shinichi-kun?"

"Better eat it, or at least hide it, before Haibara returns." He sipped on his liquid, ignoring the worried looks from the elder man.

It should come to no surprise that in the end, Haibara found the telltale trace of jam on the professor's lips and she started chewing the two out for their actions.

"It's only a piece of toast Haibara, not amphetamines."

"The professor's on a diet, meaning monitored eating and frequent exercise. You're just undoing my work so far! And you're supposed to eat breakfast!"

 _"_ Haibara, relax."

"Relax? Relax?! I am relaxed! It's you who should relax!..."

Her rant continued until it was time for them to leave the house. Even then, the girl kept a cautious eye on him. But this moment was short-lived as they stumbled upon a murder.

"Who's the idiot that decided to off someone in the morning?" Shinichi muttered as he skirted around the suspected crime scene. The corpse laid dead center of the alley, a single arm reaching out of the alley's month. It was this arm that tripped Shinichi, drawing his attention to the murder. Haibara was off to the side, calling the police and giving them the necessary details. He was more busy with dissecting the scene.

The victim, female, approximate age of 25, short hair framed the face with smudged makeup. Her clothes were in disarray, handbag thrown haphazardly with its content spilling out. Shinichi reached for the wallet, still plump and full of cash. His gaze drifted over to the women, face contorted in pain and tear trails still visible. There were no external wounds on her body except for the bruising around the neck. Absentmindedly, his hands hovered over the suspected cause of death. There was an intense burn at the center of his heart, a want of touching at the purple skin, wanting to feel the coldness permeating through, to try and replicate the circumstances and see how much pressure is needed to cause such a colouring.

"Kudo-kun." Haibara's clear voice drew him back to the present. "The police would be here soon."

"Mmmm." He withdrew his hands, clenching them into a tight fist. It would not do to contaminate the crime scene. His eyes trailed down the victim's body, taking in the details and coming to the conclusion this was a rape case. Not something of his expertise but he had enough knowledge in him to profile the culprit. Their criminal is someone who wanted to be in control, to show his prowess, and above all to want to dominate over someone successful. This victim, by the design and brand of dress, is an accomplished female high on the chain of management, a delectable prey for their culprit.

"Then we should still make it to school." He dusted off his pants before standing next to Haibara at the month of the alley. He took a look at the extended hand, judging by the discoloration, it was missing a wedding band and watch.

"Since when do you care about elementary school?" There was a suspicious look in her eyes.

"No point in sitting at the police station and guiding the police to do their jobs. This is an open and shut case." His eyes were drawn back to the purple bruises. He unconsciously licked his dried lips, he could practically taste the salty tang of sweat and bodily fluids still lingering in the air.

"Kudo-kun!" Visible concern, very out of character, from Haibara.

"Yes Haibara?" Conan pitched his voice slightly higher than normal. People were starting to appear on the streets. The pair of school children were trying their best to block out the sight with their small bodies. Thankfully, no one paid attention.

"Whatever it is, snap out of it!" Conan could tell she was resisting to slap at his face. He smiled, though it was closer to a smirk.

"What's there to snap out of?" An innocent look towards Haibara followed by a wave to an elderly couple that just passed by.

The police car, along Shiratori and Chiba, finally came to the scene after the excruciating (for Haibara at least) five minutes. At which point, Conan managed to coax a nearby cat from the bushes and started playing with her, much to Haibara's displeasure.

"Should have known it would be you Conan-kun." Shiratori's condescending tone was unnerving to the point that the cat was hissing at the approaching officer.

"Good Morning Shiratori-keiji, Chiba-keiji." Conan chirped merrily.

"You're spunky this morning." Chiba ruffled Conan's hair. "Why don't I give you a lift back to school in the patrol car?"

"Yay!" Conan had the nerve to pull Haibara towards the waiting vehicle. She scowled at his touch.

* * *

"This is not like you Kudo-kun...you'd want to chase down whoever's responsible." She said as they hid on the roof, above the service door and behind the set of exhaust chimney, during lunch hour. They were ambushed by the Detective Boys during morning break, hounding them for details and accosted the pair for not involving them in the investigation.

"Let the police do their work. They're professionals." Conan was sitting with his back towards the chimney, legs dangling over the edge. It was a feat for someone his height to have climbed to where they were sitting.

"And yet every time you'd stick around. That is until today."

"You're the one who told me to relax this morning. I'm taking your advice." He beamed a disarming smile towards her.

She fumed. The chirpy tone of voice was getting to her. She grabbed the front of his shirt before he turned back around to look at the scenery.

"Kudo-kun!" She shouted, scaring the small gathering of birds nearby.

"Shouldn't it be Edogawa?" A toothy grin as he pushed his glasses up further. He was internally overjoyed at being able to elicit such an emotion from her.

"Where is he Edogawa-kun. No, Edogawa." She was finally acknowledging his presence. "Where is Kudo-kun?"

"What do you mean Haibara?" He said in a flirty tone, hands grasping hers in his chest. "I'm here all along aren't I?"

She pushed against him, breaking the hold. With a huff, she ignored the mock-hurt expression and jumped back down to the actual roof.

"You're on your own Edogawa." She was seething as she slammed the door.

Conan fell backwards onto his back and laughed until he could feel a cramp. He wiped the stray tear with his bandaged hand, then held it up towards the sky. With his other, he traced the criss-crossing lines until his fingers landed dead center. He gave the wound a forceful jab, the white fabric slowly transitioned from the light pink to a deep red.

He noticed his glasses were becoming misted over again. He took it off and began to wipe it clean with his shirt. He looked back at his bandaged hand, still wondering why it didn't hurt and how the blood managed to seep through.

Shinichi could feel the throbbing at his temple, the premonition to an impending migraine. He tried to massage it out.

"Oh Shinichi-niisan, do you like our game?"

He heard Conan's voice again. Shinichi breathed a sigh of relief as there were no reflective surface in sight. But as he stared down from his seat, he could see a pair of shadows casted onto the floor, one taller than the other.

"Do you still want to play? Do you think you can win?" It whispered in a playful tone. His hair messed up in the wind.

"Do you want to win?"

Shinichi swore he could feel the tickling of breath at his ear. He turned abruptly to glance behind. There was no-one. He slammed his fist onto the hard concrete.

"Damn it!" Shinichi knew, instinctively what was wrong.

Conan started off as a facade, a front to hide Shinichi from the world. They were inherently the same; same face, same hobbies, same skills. Conan was supposed to be the young, innocent child with little background and history. The only link between the two, officially, was the diluted blood. Mentally, they share the same head space. As the case stretched out, the longer Conan stayed in existence, the more he was developed. Until, Conan became a different mental entity from Shinichi. They may share the same knowledge but they were finally different. Shinichi was the jaded detective, accustomed to death, blood, and murder. Conan is still a child, and exposing a child to such horrors of life will have an impact. Conan was still the facade, but it had a mind of its own, things it want to experience and test. Like a true child, it wanted to explore, especially wanted to experiment and experience different things. But above all else, it wanted to be himself. The pair of glasses acted as a window for Conan at first, for Conan was just the physical body. Now, Shinichi wasn't so sure who was in control.

"Hey Shinichi-niisan, what should we play next?" The words were followed by a string of giggles.

Shinichi sometimes wonder if Haibara had the same problem. But then he figured the girl probably abandoned her previous identity and immersed herself in the role of Haibara Ai, still retaining her previous personality and knowledge, just losing the history. Shinichi still had people to return to, things he wanted to do, so it would be impossible for him to abandon it.

"Shinichi-niisan. Shinichi-niisan. Shinichi-niisan." He tried to ignore the repeating phrase. It was Conan's method of trying to annoy him so that he would give up control.

Shinichi used to be ok with it, letting Conan take over for a while. However, recent events caused him to rethink. He deliberately waited until he was at the roof access door before putting on the glasses. His vision was instantly dulled, colours lost its natural brightness, he knew Conan was looking through his eyes again even if Shinichi is no longer privy to the boy's thoughts.

Haibara had ignored Conan for the rest of the afternoon class, as per her own words, but she still stole glances at his direction when she thinks he wasn't paying attention. Conan tried to suppress the bubble of laugh threatening to burst. It was all thanks to Yukiko-neechan that he could still keep a straight face (his practice was somewhat lacking so a smirk would show up every now and then if he did not make a conscious). Looking over to the Detective Boys, they seemed to be in deep discussion as they took glances at Haibara and himself. He figured it would be another scheme to get into the investigation. He held very little interest in it personally, but he they asked for his help then he would gladly comply. The level of thrill may not be as high as chasing armed robbers, but it would kill time.

"Conan-kun, Ai-chan, we were thinking of going to the park." Ayumi fidgeted with the hem of her jumper.

"We'll come, after we dropped off our bags." Conan offered with a smile. Haibara looked just about to kill him.

"Really?" She sounded as though he was lying. But then, he had rarely said yes to these little side trips.

"Of course!" Conan tugged Haibara in the direction of the professor's house. "Meet you guys there!" The waved cheerily, humming random notes that Haibara assumed to have once been a song.

"Edogawa...kun?" She ventured to guess. They were on a busy street and it would be dangerous to address him by his real name. When she saw the boy's eyes, she knew it was the wrong suffix to use. The blue was too bright and held tinge of blackness to it. These eyes do not belong to the detective.

"Yes~" Conan was smiling, holding tight onto the girl's hand to make sure she would not escape.

"Edogawa. Stop this at once."

"Stop what? I haven't done anything yet."

It was useless for her to try and talk sense or logic into the boy. Conan never saw the point of such _frivolities_ , as he called it. She gave up, the sooner the kid was satisfied, the sooner the things would return to normal.

It seemed being able to go to the park had indeed satisfied Conan for the moment as Shinichi suddenly found himself playing hide-and-seek in the playground with the Detective Boys. He was apparently hiding, crouched low in the bushes with branches poking an scratching him. A beeping from the detective badge indicated the seeker had given up. He was grateful for his glasses else he would have been blinded by a stray branch as he crawled out.

"Conan, you're slow." Ayumi whined. The girl had found everyone else, including Haibara, and was waiting for him.

"You've got to show me that hiding place next time!" Genta demanded. "I'm always the first one to lose!"

The children laughed, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi teased the larger boy for his inability.

"Good to see you back Kudo-kun." Haibara whispered. He sighed, this was getting out of hand.

"Um..." Ayumi looked shyly, standing in front of the pair before they split up to in back home for the evening. The two boys had already left for their home, leaving Ayumi behind as she was only two blocks over. Haibara smiled encouragingly for her to continue. "We actually wanted to apologise for this morning. It's not like Ai-chan and Conan-kun wanted to leave us out right? So...um...I wanted to give you guys this. As apologies." She shoved two pieces of wrapped candy into their hands, looking expectantly for their reply.

"Yoshida-san, there's nothing to apologise. But we'll accept it anyways if it'll make you feel better." She unwrapped the came and popped it into her mouth. Shinichi did the same, unwrapping his to reveal the reddish ball of sugar. His head told him it should taste like strawberries and extremely sweet, but his tongue was telling him otherwise. It was horribly bitter, to the point that it stings his mouth. There was even the taste of iron at the back of his throat. His throat rebelled and refuse to swallow, he felt like vomiting. He covered his mouth, muttering "Bathroom" before rushing away. He could feel Haibara's eyes following his retreating back and the hurt gaze from Ayumi but he wouldn't able to reply without throwing up on the girl.

As predicted, he threw up what little was in his stomach the moment he pushed the cubical doors opened. The stalls were all empty, silent save for his hurling and dry coughs. He dared not to look in the mirrors when he rinsed out his mouth, certain that he would see the mocking blue eyes of Conan.

"Shinichi-niisan, wasn't it delicious?" He could picture Conan licking his lips in satisfaction. "We really should buy some!" Shinichi could feel the giddiness coming from the center of his heart. He looked up.

Conan was reflected in the mirror, his red stained tongue licking his bottom lips slowly with a sinister smile. Shinichi could see his own mouth moving but the voice, tone, was not his.

"You know, _Shinichi-niisan_ is such a mouth-full I should give you a nickname..." Contemplation, a strangely serious look, formed on Conan's face. Shinichi shook his head, trying to clear the image.

"Edogawa-kun?" Haibara shouted into the men's bathroom.

"I'll be out." Shinichi turned back towards the mirror, the reflected eyes returned to the deep navy blue.

* * *

Shinichi wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he recognised the current room with the single spotlight. The last thing he remembered was walking their way back from the park, with Ayumi to his left and Haibara to his right. He remembered making some excuse about a stomach flu to settle Ayumi. But after that, everything was blank.

The room was still as dark as before, he found himself sitting on a cold steel chair this time. The wooden table was replaced with a glass table. Opposite him sat Conan, with stacks of books by his sides. A porcelain white vase sat in the center, next to the pair of folded glasses. A single sprig of Kuroyuri stood tall in the vase, swaying sideways in the non existent wind.

"Say, how do you like our games so far?" All of Conan's attention were on Shinichi, book laid forgotten on his lap. His once blue eyes no longer holds a spark.

"It's really hard to come up with a nickname for you, but I think I might have one." That smile Shinichi had come to hate was slowly appearing through the upturned corners of Conan's lips.

Instead of leaning over, like all other times, he walked around the table. Each step brought forth a shattering sound. Conan reached to caress Shinichi's cheeks, he noticed cracks began to form on the glass surface, starting from where the vase stood. Conan leaned closer on tiptoe to whisper into Shinichi's ears.

"Shi-niisan." Conan's voice brought chills down Shinichi's spine.

"Brother Death." Shinichi spoke for the first time under these conditions. The cracks on the table spread further.

"Very good!" Conan sounded very patronising. "You'll make a wonderful detective...some day...in the future...hopefully." Conan produced a red spider lily from the folds of his jacket and slipped it behind Shinichi's ear.

Shinichi tried to move his hands to take the offending flower out but it was stuck on the armrest.

"Amongst the soil, behind the grass, beyond the rainbow plains."

It was uncharacteristic of Conan to spout such sunny lines. Something changed. Something must have pleased him.

"Shi-niisan, how far would you go to win?"

The glass table shattered, shards raining onto the ground. Some had made its way onto Shinichi's laps. Conan took one of the large pieces, weighing it in his hands. He held the glass to Shinichi's neck, tracing a horizontal line across on the skin. It zigzaged down his torso, then across his thighs. Conan looked exceptionally pleased when he stabbed the glass into Shinichi's right thigh.

* * *

Shinichi screamed, eyes opened and frantic. Breaths came out haggard and heavy as he tried to sort out the haze in his mind. He tried to move his arms, but they were restrained. He looked to the side and recognised he was in the basement lab, both arms and legs tied with leather restraints to the bed.

"Kudo-kun." Haibara was beside him, but sitting quite a distance away. She was holding onto the pair of glasses, keeping it away from Shinichi. There was something not quite right with the way she was eyeing him. "What do you remember?"

"We were walking back from the park." He answered honestly.

"That was two days ago." She skirted around the bed, debating whether he should be freed. "We didn't go to school yesterday because of _family emergency_. As your physician, I needed to make sure you were healthy." She hesitated.

"What made Conan so...giddy?" He thought back to hip supposed dreams.

"A call from Ran-san. Conan told me that he encouraged her to take the position for the Japanese team in the international competition..."

Shinichi knew he should be happy that his childhood friend could represent Japan but at the same time, he felt devastated. His final link was slowly moving out of his grasp.

"What else?" He knew Conan did something else he wouldn't be in this position. "Did he...did I do something..."

"You didn't try to kill yourself. But when I suggested you should take some time off to perhaps read or do something _you_ would enjoy, Conan..."

"I attacked you." Now that Haibara was close, he could see a faint red mark around her neck. "You put me under right?"

"We're taking the rest of the week off. I'm in the middle of developing something promising."

"Well, it's not as though I'm going anywhere. Without Ran, I doubt I'll be staying at the Agency now. Kogoro would still be Conan's guardian, but I'll probably be staying over here more."

"If all goes well, I might have something before the week is over." She loosened the straps. "Can I trust you to behave?"

"I'll go to another room to lock myself in. Can't trust Conan not to break free and start causing havoc."

The professor by the door was careful to keep his distance. Probably fearful of what he could do.

"Hagase. I'm fine now." The professor released a sigh, eyes returning to the normal genteel. Shinichi entered a nearby room, probably the storage room by the number of boxes surrounding him. The first thing he did was take off the glasses. He set them on the box next to him.

"Shi-niisan. Play with me?" Conan's voice echoed. "Or are you so desperate for the game to end?" Shinichi could see the reflection of Conan on the lens, the boy was sporting a pout on his face.

"Go back to where you come from." Shinichi shook his head, trying to clear his mind. But Conan's voice just became clearer, as though he was speaking inside the room.

"But I am where I should be Shi-niisan. I'm supposed to stay with you."

Shinichi felt his arms wrap around his body, tiny hands grabbing onto the forearm in a vice-like grip.

"I'm not going anywhere Shi-niisan." He whispered into the room. Shinichi closed his eyes, trying to escape into oblivion. He drew his knees up, burying his head in it to put some barrier between him and the dark storage. "It's no use Shi-niisan..."

Shinichi wasn't sure how much time had passed, so he took out his phone to check. Instead, he found there was a voice message from Ran for Shinichi.

" _Shinichi? It's Ran. I'm not sure if Conan called you yet but I'll tell you anyways. I accepted a position on the Japanese karate team. I wasn't going to at first, but I've decided to take Conan's advice, to try things out before I decline. So...um...that time in London, I was hoping to give you a reply in person. But right now, I think we should try seeing other people first...I mean we haven't seen each other for so long already, how do we know he we're still meant to be. Your cousin, Conan, is quite...perceptive...at such things, not like you...you detective otaku. But like I was saying, if we're really meant to be, then we'll still feel the same right? I probably recorded to much, but maybe I'll call you next time? Sayonara, Shinichi._ "

The mechanical voice after the beep told him this message was made late yesterday afternoon, most likely after her conversation with Conan.

To Shinichi, her voice sounded so final, as though she never expected to see him again. He wondered what Conan told her to make her leave him. His heart hurt at the mere thought of never being able to see her again.

There was laughter in the air. A hearty, throaty laugh in a child's voice, the kind that is heard in a park or after a magic show. Shinichi tried to block his ears as he closed his eyes, willing everything away.

* * *

Before Shinichi realised what happened, he was back in the room with the single spotlight. He was sitting on the hardback chair with the wooden table. A single glass of water stood in the middle of the table. In front of him was a revolver on a plain white table placemat. A colourful placemat with a knife was set before Conan sitting opposite him.

"Shi-niisan, is it end game now?" Conan took the knife in his hand. Instantly, the silver turned a coppery red colour.

"I told you that you won't win. Do you surrender now?" Conan was twirling the knife around, letting it glide across his palm, flipped into the air, and caught like an expert.

Shinichi stared down at his revolver, reaching out and automatically check the magazine and the safety. There was a single bullet inside.

"Drifting, floating, flying in the wind. Left to the elements, a never-ending dream." There was happiness in Conan's voice. But Shinichi could feel no warmth in the sounds, only harsh coldness.

"What about now? Still think you'll win?" Conan held the knife to his own throat, sharp point just grazing the skin. A tiny trail of red began to run down the neck and throat.

"Do you still think it's all worth it?" Conan put more pressure through the knife. Shinichi's hand, which was only just resting on the gun, grabbed the weapon and pointed towards the boy.

There was a cheshire grin on Conan, eyes twinkling as he saw Shinichi take aim at his head.

"Shi-niisan~ Let's play~" Conan's grin widened as the singular light in the room dimmed. Shinichi felt himself squeezing the trigger. There was a resounding boom and a flash of muzzle in the darkness. It was followed by glass shattering. Then, there was only silence.

The light came back to the room, but Conan was nowhere in sight.

"Shi-niisan~ Let's play~" Conan's voice cackled from various directions, repeating over and over again.

* * *

Shinichi woke to the familiar ceiling of the basement lab. He was once again strapped with leather restraints onto the bed.

"What did I do this time Haibara?" He said without looking away from the ceiling. He knew the girl would be somewhere in the room.

"You trashed the storage room." She sighed, tiredness and fear mixed into her voice. "You didn't come out for dinner, haven't touched the food set outside the door. We heard nothing but silence through the door for a whole afternoon. We thought to leave you alone, that was until we heard laughter..."

"How long was I out?"

"You mean actually unconscious or just _out_?"

"The latter. You probably shot me with the tranquilizer watch so it should be no more than an hour."

"You lost another day and a half." She came by to release him. "But you were wrong in only being unconscious for an hour when it's actually closer to eight. In total, you lost two days. During which time you kept muttering _drifting, floating, flying in the wind_..."

" _Left to the elements, a never-ending dream._.." Shinichi finished the sentence. It strangely brought forth happiness in Haibara.

"That's great Kudo-kun. You remembered what happened! You're no longer at the disadvantage, no longer submitted to your other psyche!"

"No Haibara, I still have no idea what Conan did...he's gaining dominance."

"Still...I might be able to help this time though." She reached inside her pocket and took out a pill bottle. It held only one dose. "This is what I managed to formulate. It's the best hope for an antidote so far. You could return to being Kudo Shinichi and leave Conan behind with this. I've tested it with your blood samples and the results so far are positive."

Shinichi took the bottle from her. "It wouldn't be much worst than losing your own mind to someone else." The small pill bottle weighed heavy in his palm.

"I'm no psychologist, but from the signs you've been showing, your psyche wouldn't last much longer. Conan will soon become the dominant personality and you'll be forced to ride backseat."

"Water?" He had already poured the pill out into his hands. It was now or never. She dutifully handed him a glass.

"I'll be upstairs with the professor. If you haven't appeared in thirty minutes, we'll come back to check on you." She stepped out of the room to give him the privacy.

Shinichi looked from the tiny pill in his hands to the pair to glasses on the bedside table. He could just make out the reflection of Conan in the lens.

"Shi-niisan, do you hate me so much?" Shinichi felt his mouth move with the words. There was an apparent pout in the reflection.

"Conan shouldn't exist, can't exist." He shook his head.

"But you'll never be away from me you know." There it was again, the toothy grin. "Even if the game was over."

"Goodbye Conan." He swallowed the pill and took a large gulp of water. Waiting patiently for the burns and aches that followed.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Shinichi felt different. He looked at his hands, no longer small and vulnerable, and smiled happily. Picking up the prepared clothing by his side, he dressed. Before exiting the lab, his hands paused over the pair of black frames.

He hesitated.

Shinichi knew he would need some sort of disguise when he leaves the house and the pair of glasses served him well so far. Now that he isn't physically eight, he should be in control of his actions and thought. He tried to put the glasses on, its weight familiar on the bridge of his nose.

Nothing.

No sound.

Shinichi took his glasses off, placed then into his rant pockets, and let out a breath of relief before his mouth morphed into a toothy grin, and stepped out of the basement lab...

...as Kudo Shinichi?

 **-END-**

* * *

A/N: Before you decide to maim me, I know it's bad to leave a story with a question mark but make of what you will with this fic. For better or for worst. Maybe if my muses come back to me, I might do a KID version.


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